


World Transfer

by hollowghostling



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), I'm Bad At Tagging, Manhunt - Freeform, no beta and it SHOWS, tis not the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowghostling/pseuds/hollowghostling
Summary: In which Dream is taken away from his cell to revive Wilbur.
Relationships: None
Comments: 6
Kudos: 189





	World Transfer

**Author's Note:**

> Well well well. That manhunt really inspired me, and I want to remember that I wrote this and not have it get ost in my drafts, so yeah. If anyone reads it I hope y'all enjoy :)

Dream sits in his cell staring blankly at the wall. His clock is long gone, the last one having been thrown into the lava and never returned. His skin frames his body tightly, and it sticks to his bones and caves in. His face is sunken in and tired, black circles prominent under his eyes which have lost most of their color and remain a dull grey. The scent of rotting food filters through the air around him, but his stomach doesn’t ache, his chest doesn’t ache either. He barely even remembers when he was first thrown in here, when he was given the punishment of constant suffocation from toxic fumes and deaths from starvation. He could no longer even muster the energy to move, nor could he muster the energy to feel; he is numb. 

The whirring of redstone indicates a visitor, and although he would have felt elated just months ago to receive only the slightest bits of human contact, he finds himself indifferent. Steps sound against the moving bridge, a slight shuffling of feet that indicated they were nervous. The barrier doesn’t move up, and Dream can feel hands shift under his body and pick him up. Dull eyes lazily move their gaze upwards to show that it’s Bad that’s carrying him, his glowing eyes squinting with worry; the demon doesn’t really feel like he’s picking the man up, and he can feel the outline of Dream’s spine digging into him painfully, and his worry only increases. 

As Dream is carried out of the prison and into the light, he shuts his eyes tightly, nearly hissing from the pain of natural light shining violently in his face. He hears more feet moving on the grass, hears the way the trees sway with rustling leaves, hears the ocean and the haunting calls of the guardians, and he feels the way the fabric of Bad’s clothing feels against his bare cheek, and he feels tears coming to his eyes. _It’s all too much_. He can’t stand it. All he wants to do is curl up somewhere and die as the world attacks his senses with a wrath previously unknown to him, and, unable to take it anymore, he screams. 

The hoarse sound pierces through the air, raw and desperate, and he doesn’t notice the others who have circled around him, wincing at the sound and flinching back at the sight of his bare and obviously starved figure. The noise stops abruptly and coughing takes its place, and Dream feels tears pouring down his face from the pain and the sudden headache and he just wants all of it to go away, but a voice speaks up, and he feels compelled to listen.

“Hello green bitch, we need you to revive Wilbur now.” The voice is Tommy’s loud and obnoxious, but it soothes the others, assures them of their own heroics while tearing the sympathy they had for Dream, the villain of their story, to shreds. 

The poor man nods and quietly asks for Ghostbur to come forward, bony fingers reaching out slightly to take hold of the ghost’s hand. He thinks about the consequences, about how he has two options; one to use his powers and uproot some energy from his world, or the option of trading his life away. He tiredly looks around at all of their faces from where he’s held in Bad’s arms, expressions cold and closed off, and he knows what the right choice is.

Chants fall from his chapped lips, voice cracking and breaking constantly as he destroys his throat further, and ever so slowly, he can see Ghostbur’s body slowly becoming more and more opaque as his body becomes more and more transparent. Finally, the last lines are spoken, and a wave of pain crashes through him, pulsing and unmerciful as his life is ripped away from his tired body. Voices begin to shout, and he recognizes them as a joyful symphony, all of them happy to have Wilbur back. None of them think to look at Dream until a particularly powerful wave of pain hits him like a horse, knocking all of the breath out of him in a painful and loud wheeze huff. When they turn, they see his body being devoured by purple particles, and they begin to panic, he’s their last hope at bringing people back after all, before he disappears completely, leaving them to bask in a disorienting mix of dread, happiness, and confusion.

  
\---------------------------------  
  


Dream finds himself in the void, stars twinkling around him as if mocking him for being so weak. He hates it. And, he would probably hate the state his body is in, so very frail, but he is unable to feel anymore. At least, every pain he had felt in the prison slowly faded away, and his most recent sensation was that of his being pulled apart, so he supposes not being able to feel was okay. At least in the void he wouldn’t need to feel anymore and he could fade away peacefully, and that thought brings a minuscule amount of comfort as he shuts his eyes and begs for his body to just fade away because even if he deserved to suffer he didn’t like pain, he just wants it all to stop. 

He floats aimlessly for a while, staring into the darkness that surrounds him and envelops him in a cold tomb, until he feels a harsh tug on his soul. He jerks, body screaming with pain as he feels his muscles and flesh grow and grow until he looks less like a skeleton and more like the person he used to be before the SMP, fast and quick. It drowns him and he is tugged further still until he feels himself be pushed into reality in an instant, soul merging with a body and producing an intense yet brief session of vertigo that leaves him swaying. He looks up, and he sees four people, three of which he thought he would be free from upon dying. 

There, all around him, stands Sapnap, George Bad, and Antfrost. They all radiate murderous intent, teeth displayed in angry snarls, and swords raised and ready to strike. All he wants is to fall into their arms, to be hugged and comforted now that his brain is free from months of atrophy, leaving behind desires bred from extended times of forced isolation, but he can’t. And somewhere within this body, survival instincts cut though his confused haze and before he knows it he’s running, ignoring all the calls of his name being shouted behind him. He runs until the moon rises high in the sky, runs even as his hunger catches up to him, leaving his stomach clenching with the need for sustenance, and he only finds it within himself to stop running when his legs give out and he collapses onto soft sand.

He clutches at it, and he can’t help it when he cries and cries, all of his previously suppressed emotions forcing themselves forward like a tsunami and crushing him under the weight. His body collapses further, and pulsing muscles begin to cramp as he frantically tries to prevent it. It takes many minutes for him to calm down, and when he does his brain can’t help but go into overdrive. Does he have supplies? What does he need to live like this? Why is he living like this? Why were they chasing him- and his breath hitches. There had to be a reason right? A reason why he’s here and not still dead, a reason why he doesn’t recognize where he is. His mind shuffles through every possibility he can possibly think of as he sorts through his inventory, and his breath hitches upon seeing that all he has are a few sticks and some steak. 

In the distance, smoke from a village registers in his mind, and he slowly gets up, muscles aching as he stumbles towards it. He looks back, and all he sees is the swift river and the thick jungle he sprinted across to get to the desert. Something at the back of his mind tells him he only has about one day before they catch up to him, maybe even less, so he rushes onto the roof of one of the houses in the village he managed to find before succumbing to his exhaustion.

  
\---------------------------------  
  


Bright sunlight beats against him as he gets up, hunger slowly being ebbed away from one of the steaks he has in his tiny supply. He glances in the direction he came from, hand stroking his mask, a nervous tick. He sees nothing, but something primitive in this body’s head, honed by years of painful survival, blares in his head with the might of a thousand fireworks and so he jumps down from his perch and endeavors to snag as much supplies as he can before running even further. He leaves the village with enough bread to last several days and an iron shovel. 

The sun is high in the sky, and his muscles are still sore, but he continues on into the harsh environment of the desert, enduring and continuing on until he finds an abandoned portal. A portal, something that leads to another world, and the impassive observation ignites a spark of inspiration lights, and an idea wraps around his mind. What if this isn’t his world. What if it’s a different one, one with a different Sapnap, one with a different George, one with a different everyone? An unsettling feeling churns in his stomach as he loots the contents of the chest that sits next to the portal, gathering all the flint and obsidian that lay within. 

The pit in his stomach stays, and a crushing feeling suffocates him as he remembers that he’s running from people that he used to consider his friends. All he wants to do is lean into their touch, to even let them stab him as long as it means they’ll be close to him, but another part of his mind screams in protest at the thought. No, he needs to survive, and he will. 

Another village comes into view, and just as he reaches it an arrow flies in an elegant arc from behind him before burying itself into the ground before him. He turns back in a panic, and there he sees the four of them, all in their shoddy armor and well crafted iron swords and he runs. Arrows fly by as sand is kicked behind him as he passes through, houses passing by in a blur as he sprints through, terror and yearning mixing to form a conflicting battle that rages within. He wants to be held, he wants to be forgiven, he really does. But he doesn’t deserve it. He’s done so many awful things, he deserves to rot in prison; however, the more pressing need to live wins out and so he continues onward. 

Somewhere in the distance he hears shouting, something about resting and enchanted compasses, and dread lies heavily on his shoulders. Calculations run through his head; they have armor, so they will be slower. He doesn’t have a weapon, only a shovel that won’t really help much. There’s no way he’d win in a fight against all of them. They have at least one enchanted compass, and it’s no doubt pointed towards him. Fingers stroke at his mask again, and he silently marvels at the feeling of it after having it taken away while he was locked in prison. He shivers and walks on, eventually finding another broken portal. This one holds more flint, some melon slices, and an enchanted golden hoe. He takes all the items and places them in his inventory, looking at the slowly sinking sun and praying that his travels are safe from monsters. However, when night comes, the monsters don’t seem to see him, all appear blind to him as he travels across the desert, parched and tired. 

He travels for a day or two, always conscious of the fact that there are hunters chasing him, when he comes across a desert temple as the moon rises again. At this point, he feels his muscles burning and crying for rest, feels his eyes beginning to close, and he finally finds a spot within the darkest corners of the temple to rest before closing his eyes and falling asleep. 

  
\---------------------------------  
  


Dream awakens to the sound of shuffling, and he almost shrieks in surprise to see a creeper. Its red eyes stare at him insistently, and somehow he knows it’s a warning. Immediately, his mind shifts to the hunters, and the previously strong urge to initiate human contact with them is stifled as he stands on unsteady legs and goes into the water, gnawing at a melon slice as he does so. 

The water is nice and warm, and it soothes his muscles as dolphins approach him and carry him off and farther away from the hunters. The sunrise still sits pretty on the horizon, and he uses his skills gained in the SMP to navigate the waters with the dolphins’ help until they stop at a shipwreck and nudge him in. The chests there bring hope to life in his chest as he grabs the many iron ingots and scraps left in there. Emeralds, feathers, and more wood find their way into his inventory, and he grins as he finds a compass. It’s silver and decorated with a golden dragon on the back, its back elegantly curved to create a sort of ring which holds a beautiful purple stone of which he’d never seen before. He examines it closely, almost forgetting that he needs to breathe until his chest begins to burn from lack of oxygen.

A door stands near him, and he uses the air pocket it creates to take a breather and count his items, and he’s just finished counting all his iron when footsteps creak on the top of the boat. He pauses, liquid fear filling his veins, and he doesn't even consider making a single sound to be found as he makes a crafting table, an iron sword, and then a boat before placing the crafting table back in his inventory. The creaking sounds closer, and he feels even more afraid as familiar voices speak up, all filled with malice towards him. One of them swims around the shipwreck, almost like a shark, and his breath hitches as Antfrost seems to stare right at him before looking away. He still remains unnoticed, but he fears he will be found by the sound of his frantic heart and the scent of sweat as it drips under his mask and onto the only fry portion of floor in the ship. 

The voices begin to sound closer and closer, and they’re circling him, eyes split between their compasses and their surroundings, tense and waiting for any kind of movement. Dream shrinks back slightly before gathering his courage and swimming as fast as he can to the surface, boat in hand. Shouting sounds behind him, and he feels his eyes begin to prickle as he rows away, salt water spraying behind him. Dolphins once again come forward and help him cross the ocean faster, ancient magic washing over him as he traverses the sea easily, barely even resting as the sun dips lower and lower in the sky. The wonderful animals leave after a few more hours, and he slows and finds the river leading to the jungle. It doesn’t take long for him to decide a dense forest is better than nothing, and his boat goes into his inventory as he walks in deeper. The caws of parrots sound around him, and the sudden urge for a companion makes his fingers twitch. 

An hour later, he has a pile of seeds in his hands and he’s ready to tame a bird. He calls out to one, its feathers grey in color before tentatively handing it seeds. Only a few moments later, bright red feathers come into view, vibrant blues and greens coloring the tips, and he finds himself with two parrots. Both snuggle into his shoulders, and he feels a warm feeling travel throughout his chest before he quickly climbs one of the sturdy jungle trees to gain a better vantage point. And as the moon rises, he finds that he feels somewhat safe under the cover of the thick leaves, and as exhaustion catches up to him and settles deep into his bones he falls into the comforting embrace of sleep, washing away his worries with foolish abandon and losing his consciousness just in time to miss the loud laughter coming from the very edge of the jungle.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, if there are any tags or warnings you'd like me to add, feel free to tell me, and I'll do my best to change it :D  
> Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
